


The end of the line

by HazardousJack



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Kinda 5+1, Mortality, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7705564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazardousJack/pseuds/HazardousJack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another way McCoy's xenopolycethimia could've gone.<br/>Angsty.<br/>Kinda 5+1 style but not really</p>
            </blockquote>





	The end of the line

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: lots and lots of talk about mortality, terminal illness, loss, and existence. Referenced suicide. You've been warned.  
> Enjoy.  
> Jack

“I’ll be most effective on the job if you’d keep this to yourself,” Leonard said. The way he said it was as gruff as usual, but tinged with a sadness that was never there before.  
“Doctor, you are dismissed,” Jim ordered.  
“What? No! I can still do my job!” Leonard retorted angrily. “What’re you gonna do? Have M’Benga work my shifts as well? No, I don’t think so. I am not dead or disabled, I can still work, just like usual.”  
“You shouldn’t have to work during your last year.” Jim pulled out his comm. “Chekov. Set coordinates to the nearest Starbase. It’s urgent.”  
“Aye, captain.”  
“McCoy. You are off duty until we reach the starbase.”  
“Jim, I can still work! It’s not yet impeding my ability to do my job!”  
“I want you to enjoy your last few months, not work,” Jim argued.  
“Well then let me do my job! We don’t have too many doctors on board. You need all the staffers you can get!” the doctor pushed.  
“It doesn’t matter. I am speaking as your captain. Doctor McCoy, you are hereby relieved of your duties. Leave the medbay at once.” Leonard stood there for a moment. He was appalled. Jim rarely pulled rank on a crew member, let alone his friend. He turned on his heel and walked away, but not before shooting a glare at the captain. 

“I’m sorry, Doctor. Your white corpuscle count hasn’t changed,” Chapel said. Leonard didn’t know how to respond.  
“I guess I should enjoy this next year, then…” he replied. He couldn’t keep the sadness out of his voice. Jim sighed. A deep, heartbroken sigh.   
“Bones, you are still relieved of your duties as chief medical officer.”  
“I guess that’s fine,” Leonard agreed. He didn’t feel like arguing. He felt like hiding away from the world and crying ‘till his inevitable death. Nobody said anything more. It was a tough topic, your close friend having a number attached to his life.

1 month  
“Bones! How are you feeling?” Jim was as chipper as usual. As chipper as before the news, even. The past month had altered how long a year felt, and Jim planned on making it the best year anyone has ever had.  
“Awful. I caught a cold,” Leonard answered. If this was two months ago, he would say he was feeling like he might die, but that would put a damper on the conversation.   
“Y’wanna go get some soup then?” Jim asked eagerly.  
“That was thought to have medicinal properties in the 19th century. We’ve got anti-virals and medicine now,” Leonard said.  
“It’s mostly traditional, I think, plus the warmness makes you feel nice, so how ‘bout it” Jim looked so pleading. Like he wanted to spend every waking moment with Leonard before he… left. Leonard didn’t know how correct he was about that thought.  
“Fine, fine.”  
The soup did make him feel better. So did spending time with Jim.

2 months  
“Doctor! Your cell counts are astonishingly better! Leukocytes are just about normal now!” Chapel said excitedly after a blood test.  
“Really, now? There’s no cure… Could the cure we tried earlier be working now, all this time later?”  
“Unlikely. We have no idea how this is working, or if it will stay like this, but it’s good now,” Chapel answered cheerfully.  
“Can I work again?” Leonard asked. He missed working.  
“You’ll have to ask the captain, sorry Len,” she said.

“I think you can, Bones,” Jim said. That was one of the happiest weeks of Leonard’s life. Nobody ever talks about how good it feels to be helping people again. Of course, his xenopolycythemia wasn’t in recession for long. Jim blames working again.

3 months  
It was safe to say that Leonard was steadily getting worse. One day he woke up and could barely move the fatigue was so bad. It started started happening over and over again. He would call Chapel for help. He would struggle to eat his food.

4 months   
Getting better became a pattern. He would get worse, be immobile and bedridden, and then he would be better than he’d been before he had the disease.   
Jim was losing his mind over it. The second time he had his heart shattered by Leonard recessing back into sickness he took shore leave for twice as long as the average crew member. He came back hungover and exhausted. Leonard felt bad, but he knew it wasn’t his fault. He and Jim spoke less and less. 

5 months  
M’Benga didn’t take days off anymore. He didn’t take shifts off even. He was constantly working. Partly because he was the acting CMO, partly because he was working on a cure. He slept little, ate even less.  
“Geoff, you have to eat and sleep. There’s no cure for xenopolycythemia. I’ve accepted that now. You should too. I don’t want you to overwork yourself constantly in search of a cure that takes years to create. You can work on a cure, but please take care of yourself. He’s not going to be saved,” Christine was constantly saying. At first she helped him, but then she just tried to get him to sleep. “Len wouldn’t like you working yourself like this.”  
“You don’t know what he wants”  
“Neither do you.”

6 months  
It happened so suddenly. When walking to the mess hall with Jim, Leonard suddenly collapsed. He was rushed to the medbay, and had to have surgery done. He was likely to be bedridden for the rest of his life.  
Jim blamed himself.  
Leonard had come to terms by now. He tried to enjoy the few days he had left. It was hard. His imminent death loomed over him like a dark cloud, preventing people from getting too close. Jim didn’t want to abandon Leonard, but it was getting hard for him not to. He almost wanted to just get it over with. He always had his Bones by his side. It was hard to know that he wasn’t going to have that anymore. 

7 months  
Spock was upset. He claimed fearing the death of another was illogical. He tried shoving that fear to the dark recesses of his mind. It didn’t work. The tragedy loomed over the entire ship. No matter how much the doctor griped and complained, they all loved him dearly. The hallways had an eerie quietness. Instead of bustling corridors filled with young ensigns laughing and officers ranting about the stupidity of those young ensigns, people hung near the walls and talked in hushed voices.   
It got even quieter when Chapel, Geoff, Kirk, Spock or Scotty were around. Everyone knew how close they all were to Leonard. How angry Chapel had gotten, how uptight Geoff became. How Kirk and Scotty moved slowly, quietly, without purpose. How Spock got angry. Everyone knew to be wary. The halls were silent near the medbay. No one spoke and everyone walked as quietly as possible, as if their noises would kill Leonard quicker.

8 months  
Nobody visited anymore. Almost nobody. Jim visited when Leonard was asleep. He couldn’t bear talking to his best friend when he was bedridden and so near death.  
Sometimes Jim considered creating his own mortality. He tried to dismiss these thoughts, but they were getting more frequent and more strong. He knew that if Leonard heard what Jim was thinking about it would break his heart. People tried to cheer Jim up. Make him happy to still have his friend with him. Jim didn’t believe it. Leonard never smiled, never laughed. Why have something if it’s just a shell of what it used to be?

9 months  
Leonard was doing awful. He could barely move, he felt tired and sluggish all the time. His forearms were numb. Sometimes he wished he could just get it over with, but the human will to live overpowered that. In this time he pondered mortality. Why? How? What happens afterwards? How does the human consciousness exist? Where does it go? Leonard could feel himself getting weaker. He wondered if he would even make it to the 12 month mark. He wondered if it was worth getting to the 12 month mark.   
Leonard wondered why Jim didn’t want to see him anymore. It hurt him. He supposed it made sense. He wasn’t the man he used to be. Not the excitable, sarcastic, energetic man he used to be. He barely had a personality anymore. He didn’t have the energy. One of these days he would, in a sense, asphyxiate due to the lack of hemoglobin in his bloodstream. It was like drawn-out cyanide poisoning. Sometimes he looked forward to the day that the oxygen didn’t reach his heart or his brain. Sometimes he looked forward to the day it all ended.

10 months  
That day was closer than he anticipated. Chapel and Geoff ran over. His vitals were dropping. Leonard was scared. He didn’t know what was happening. He resisted the urge to cry. It will all be over. They hadn’t made it back to Earth. He would never see his family again. They were able to stabilize him for a short while. His friends were called over. Spock looked like he was about to cry. Jim looked broken. Uhura, Scotty, and the rest of the bridge crew were all there. For a moment Leonard’s fear dissipated. That moment was enough.  
“I’m so sorry,” Chapel said. She was trying to keep her composure, it was obvious. She tried to forget that Leonard was her friend too. Nobody said anything. There was nothing to say.

**Author's Note:**

> You made it this far. Kudos to you, my friend. I hope you enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it (no wait that makes me sound like a sadist.) I love you deeply.  
> Godspeed  
> Jack


End file.
